The Dead Rising
by Seven Deaths
Summary: Book 1 in the Jack'niel Bloodborn Saga. Jack'niel Bloodborn is the new Champion of Arkay, the God of the Cycle of Life and Death. He sends him to a place where the dead don't stay dead to stop a Daedric Prince from causing mischief. Together with Rick Grimes, can he do the unthinkable and defeat a Prince when the whole world is his Army?


(NOTE: Not all the chapters will be this long.)

_Dear Father,_

_I come to the close of another eve and still I am no closer to following in your footsteps and completing your dream for me. I try constantly to gain admittance to the College of Winterhold, but to no avail. It's like they can see right through me. Like they know that I am not as pure bred as I appear. Since your passing, I've taken to living in the streets and gutters. I never pass up the opportunity for a warm meal and an even warmer bed. I've done all sorts of work all over Skyrim. I've worked the Lumber Mill in Riverwood and mined Iron in Dawnstar. I've also become quite the thief. I've gotten very good at it, which is something I daresay I am ashamed of. I've spent time in many of the Hold's Dungeons, but recently I haven't been getting caught. If becoming a Mage like you wanted doesn't work out, I might try to join the Thieve's Guild in Riften. I hope this letter finds you well and I'm sorry for being such a disappointment._

_Love Your Son,_

_Jack'niel Bloodborn_

Jack sighed as he read and reread the letter he had just written to his father. Sitting at a table near the hearth, he had just used the last of his parchment and he feared it might be awhile until he was able to get more. Sure, he could steal it, but he only resorted to theft if it was an emergency. He gingerly lifted the parchment and placed it in the center of the fire. His heart sank as the flames began to lick around the edges and devour the letter to his now deceased father. It was his hope that no matter which plane his father ended up on, the letter would get to him. He had to hope that was true or else he didn't have anyone to talk to and he refused to be alone in this world.

It was getting to be very late and Jack knew full well that he could not sit in front of the hearth at the Frozen Hearth all night. Past experience and a sharp look from Dagur was all the motivation he needed to gather his meager belongings and go. Stepping outside, he pulled his brown cloak tight around his body to guard against the wind. The College of Winterhold jutted high in the sky behind the Inn and the view of it would be the last Jack saw of it for a long time.

His attempts to gain admittance into the College repeatedly failed. He didn't have the connections needed to gain easy entry so the only other option was Questing. Now, Jack was pretty handy with a sword, but he was no Adventurer. He considered hiring a Mercenary or two, but their prices were outrageous. He was not the Dragonborn and was not a one man Adventuring Party.

He turned his path south towards Riften and the Thieve's Guild. With nothing else to do, he might as well continue what he was good at it. He didn't walk very far, stopping as soon as he was clear of the city and in the woods. He found a tall tree and climbed it as high as he dared to and tied himself down. These days, camping outside on the ground in the dark was a death sentence. Especially this far North, there were no shortage of things that wanted to eat you. Ice wolves and Vampires were on the top of that list. Although to be fair, if a Vampire wandered under Jack's branch there would be very little he could do to stop him. Tied in securely, Jack pulled a dagger out of his pack and held in his lap just to be safe. He leaned back and closed his eyes and even though the cold wind blew right through him he eventually nodded off to sleep.

While asleep, Jack's dreams began to take the form of memories best left forgotten. He was standing outside the bridge to the College of Winterhold. His father's dream lay on the other side. If only he could persuade the Mage guarding the bridge that he was worthy of admittance. He had stolen a nice set of fine clothes to wear with his best pair of boots. He ran his fingers through his greasy hair and although he'd tried to wash it in the river, it still spoke of poor upbringing. He took a deep breath and walked closer.

As he approached an Altmer Mage turned to look at him. Jack did not dare speak first. Instead he only stared her down with all the courage he could muster. Finally she spoke. "Breton?" It was a question. Jack nodded. Indeed he was a Breton. His father brought him over when he was just a small baby after his mother passed away. Tales of success in Skyrim were tantalizing, if exaggerated.

"My name is Faralda. What are you called?"

"My name is Jack'niel Bloodborn."

"Bloodborn? That is not a common surname. Explain." Jack sighed. He hated telling this story. it made him feel terrible for something that was not his fault.

"In the town I grew up in, when a woman dies giving birth to her child, that child is given the surname of Bloodborn so that they may forever be reminded of the cost for their own life. It is supposed to be empowering, but it generally just reminds us of how much we lost."

She nodded. "Thank you for being honest Bloodborn. What can I do for you today?"

"I seek admission to the College. I want to learn Magic. My father recently passed away and it was his dream that I become a Mage. So here I am." Faralda paused as if in thought while Jack'niel stood there stiff as a board. His courage long since forgotten.

Finally, she spoke. "Those are very fine clothes, Bloodborn. Did you steal them?" Jack wasn't expecting that. He didn't know what to say. His throat closed up and he couldn't breathe. He struggled under the weight of her gaze and it was enough to jog himself awake as he almost fell out of the tree.

He found himself to be drenched in sweat. Not a night went by that he didn't have that same dream. It was almost as if his mind was trying to find out where he went wrong. Shaking it off he untied himself and packed away the rope. He started to climb down, but found himself shivering so much that he almost fell. Reaching the bottom, he stamped his feet and tried to get the blood flowing again. It would be a long walk today and he hoped to reach Ivarstead by nightfall. He began the long hike with a step and he kept telling himself that it was just one more step. Just one more step. Soon, the sun was high in the sky and he guessed it to be around noon. He stopped in a small clearing by a berry bush and stopped to rest and chew on some berries. It wasn't the ideal lunch, but it was better than nothing.

A rustle in the bushes on the other side of the clearing caught his attention. He pulled his dagger from his belt and prepared his meager spells. Out jumped a wolf and Jack sprang into action. Spraying the wolf down with Flames and slashing it across the forehead with his dagger felled it easily, but it was too late. The whole thing was a trap and he knew it as soon as an arrow pierced his shoulder blade.

He groaned and dropped to the ground, frantically searching for the bandits and praying to the Divines that there weren't many of them. As it turns out, there were three of them. Most likely, one guy with a bow and two melee men. Jack reached up and pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. It wasn't bleeding too much so it could wait for healing. A large man wielding a Warhammer burst out of the bushes towards him.

Jack shot more flames at the man and rolled out of the way. Mere seconds after he moved, a hammer came crashing down where is body used to be. Catching his balance, he caught the man in the side, jamming his dagger into his neck. The big guy crumpled to the ground. Jack ducked behind a tree and used his Conjure Familiar spell. A ghostly wolf form appeared at his side. "Archer."

The Familiar took off hopefully towards the Archer who didn't have a Banish Daedra spell handy. Before Jack could take a breath, the last man came out. Wielding a steel sword, he swung it at Jack fast. Jack threw up the dagger to block and was rewarded with a gash in his arm instead of death. Unarmed and with little Magicka left in him, Jack rolled to the side to avoid another blow from the sword. The bandit was good. Jack found a sizable rock with his hand and threw it at the bandit. It struck him in the eye and gave Jack enough time to leap forward and knock the man to the ground. they struggled for a bit but Jack kneed the Bandit in his groin and grabbed his sword from the ground and in moments, it was stuck in his neck.

A brief look to the side saw the Archer dead on the ground as the Familiar dissipated. Then the pain hit him. The arrow and the sword wounds were nothing to forget about the adrenaline made him ignore it. He used what little Magicka he had left to heal his wounds. He needed to rest, but he couldn't do that until he reached Ivarstead. He heard a sound from behind and whipped around expecting more bandits, but instead found a horse. Mentally, he celebreated his good luck. With a horse, he could get to Ivarstead before Dinner time with money to actually eat Dinner.

He gathered up what little of value the Bandits had which was 22 Gold Pieces, the Bound Sword Tome, a Two-Handed steel Warhammer and a Steel Sword. The sword and the tome he would keep for himself. The rest he would sell in Ivarstead. He mounted the horse with relative ease and made way down the road. The Horse seemed to not mind who was riding him as long as he was going somewhere.

As he rode, he pulled out the spell tome and began reading. If he'd known this spell back before the bandits, he wouldn't have had as much trouble with them. He could definitely find this useful. Soon after reading, the tome vanished into dust and Jack was filled with new power. He didn't try out the spell yet as he didn't want to waste his precious remaining Magicka.

He arrived a little later than planned, but it turned out that there wasn't a general store in town. He sold all the loot to the Innkeeper for 20 gold and found a passerby willing to buy the horse for a mere 200 gold. A steal when you consider the usual price to buy one. He ate a hot meal at Vilemyr Inn and then rented a room for the night. Laying there in the warm bed, he fell asleep quickly. His dreams picked up where they left off.

"Those are very fine clothes, Bloodborn. Did you steal them?" Jack wasn't expecting that. He stammered a bit and looked down. The answer was clear enough. Faralda sighed. She reached out and grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. "Do you want to study Magic? Or is it only because your father wanted you to?"

Jack had never been asked that before. Rather than go into a long debate about it he answered, "Yes. I do want to study Magic."

"Well, I'm sorry. The College of Winterhold does not accept thieves. You are not welcome here. Be gone from my sight before I have you arrested. And Bloodborn, do not let me catch you trying to gain admittance. I will know." Jack nodded and made to leave, but found he was rooted to the spot. He suddenly felt more awake than normal in dreams and the face of Faralda slowly became the face of a Human male. Something about this male suggested that there was more than could be seen.

"Greetings, Jack'niel Bloodborn." This voice was very deep and assertive. It reverberated around the dream like they were in a small room. "I am Arkay, God of the Cycle of Birth and Death. I have a task for you."

Jack'niel tried to take a step back, but could not. "A task, Lord Arkay?"

"Yes. I sense in you a great power yet to be seen by others. Scorned by the College of Winterhold, I cannot allow you to join the Thieve's Guild. That would be stifling your potential. Do you accept my task?"

"May I know what it is you ask of me first." Arkay laughed.

"Of course my child! We Divines watch over many Planes and many different worlds, but it is only this one that still worships us. One of the Daedric Princes has been causing some grief in one of those other worlds. It's a plain one without Magic and Gods, Devils or Demons, but these days it finds itself filled with death. It's an affront to my name. None of those who die are staying dead. I'm going to send you there to meet up with one of my other recruits and you're going to stop whichever lowly Daedra Prince is responsible."

Jack was stunned. Save a whole World? Him? "Why me? Why am I special?"

"Only time will tell, Jack'niel Bloodborn. Will you accept? Will you be my Champion? In this World and many others? You will retain all your Magic and equipment."

"I'd be honored Lord Arkay."

"Excellent. You may have this as a symbol of my gratitude and faith in you." Suddenly, he was dressed in Steel Armor. Boots, Helmet and Greaves as well. "I'll keep in touch. The man you are looking for is named Rick. Good luck."

Jack sat straight up but he found that he wasn't in his bed anymore. He was laying in the middle of a field. A field surrounded by see through walls? A voice was shouting at him. A man was running towards him carrying a piece of black...something.

As he approached, he pointed the thing at him in a weird way. Almost like a bow, but different. "Who the hell are you? How do you get inside?" Others were shouting at him to be calm. They called him Rick.

Jack smiled. "Rick? Arkay sent me. I hear you have problems?"

Jack'niel Bloodborn  
Age 18  
Breton

Current Location: Prison

Inventory:  
240 Gold Pieces  
1 Apple  
10 feet of rope

Equipped:  
Heavy Cloak  
Clothes  
Boots  
Steel Sword

Spells Known:  
**Conjure Familiar** - a novice level conjuration spell that summons a Familiar to aid you in combat. The Familiar appears as a ghostly wolf, and uses strictly melee attacks. Lasts for 60 seconds.  
**Flames **- is a novice level destruction spell that deals fire damage. Range of 36 feet.  
**Healing **- is a novice level Restoration spell, which will slowly restore the health of the caster.  
**Bound Sword** - causes the spellcaster to be equipped with a magical version of the specified weapon for a duration of time, after which the weapon vanishes. To dispel the weapon before the time has elapsed, sheathe the weapon. Lasts for 120 seconds.


End file.
